Phoenix
by gypsypower
Summary: Different POVs of Cabot's return & departure. Done unless you beg me for more (ha ha).


"Someone's gonna have to save your asses."

Olivia's POV

I heard maybe the first two syllables of your sentence before the world around me went fuzzy. All I could hear was the blood rushing through my veins, my heart pounding out of my ribcage. I was afraid Elliot and Casey would hear the muscles in my chest ripping apart. I was afraid you would hear my breathing echoing through my body, hitching and tripping on your words, and laugh at my idiocy. It was all I could do to simply turn around and see you –nothing more. But there you were, black and faded as my body readjusted itself after the shock of hearing your voice, and then as clear and real as the chair in which I sat. The image of you –no, the actual real life you –was so anticipated but unexpected it stole my breath. I couldn't even speak, not with my mouth at least. I tried to tell you how I felt with my eyes.

Casey's POV

I feared you never having even met you. I walked into this job and knew I would never begin to fill a minutia of the void you left. But, I also knew I had all the time in the world to catch up with the memory of a ghost. I figured one day they would revere me as they had you. One day down the line they would mourn my loss as much as yours. I was dealing with that—constantly being number two to a memory. At least I wasn't a dirty number two anymore. The subhuman looks I had received upon assignment to the squad had slowly started to dissipate. The constant arguing had begun to subside. The squad was just _finally_ starting to trust my judgment. My God, we had even hung out outside of our offices a sparse few times. Granted, those revolved around cases, but it was something to me. It was an indication that the real life Casey Novak was maybe, just maybe, going to catch up to the ghost of Alexandra Cabot. And all that was dashed the moment you walked through the door.

Elliot's POV

'What more could I lose?' I distinctly remember thinking somewhere in the back of my head when Casey first asked us to arrest him. We had already lost you. I am in the process of losing my children and wife. I only have two things in this world left to lose, and I knew this one act would knock them both out—my job and thus Olivia. But we did it anyway. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe it wasn't. I am not going to pretend to play judgment maker. I did what I thought had to be done, and I was prepared to accept the consequences. I wasn't really concerned with anyone else. Olivia made her choice, right along with me. I knew no one else in the squad knew, so they couldn't be burned along with us. And then I looked at Casey Novak, actually looked at her eyes and found something underneath. Fear. Hurt. I had forgotten how one person who really played no part in this stood a great chance of being the one affected the most in all this.

" . . . I sing the 'Mr. Softy' song . . ."

Alex's POV

Have you ever run into a ghost? I know that's how everyone felt seeing me again, but I also felt like I had encountered ghosts from my past. You were standing so close to me I couldn't breath. I was afraid my alarm clock would suddenly start blaring, signaling the beginning of another day as 'Emily,' signaling the cessation of the wonderful feeling of simply _being myself_. While you were right here in front of my face, so close I could feel your breath on my cheek, I wanted to purge myself of my secrets and terrors. I wanted to reach out and hold you, a lifeline to assure me you were real, the moment was real and not some dream. But I was so afraid my arms would pass right through you. I was talking and normal on the outside, but my heart was pounding so hard, so erratically, I felt the pressure in my eyes. The underneath of my skin had gone both tingly and numb at the same time. I am not quite sure how the words were coming through the wet wool rug I formerly knew as my tongue. I just kept talking, fearing in a spot deep inside my body that I would wake up from my dream at any moment.

"She asked me to come say goodbye."

Olivia's POV

I swallowed hard to keep the bile from rushing up my throat and out of my mouth. Two days. I had hung on the hope that you would return someday. I guess I should have hoped you would return and stay. In my sparse frenetic prayers I had begged for your return . . . but nothing beyond that, no scope of time. Be careful what you wish for. That damn idiom was playing itself over and over in my head. At least he wasn't telling us you were dead, for real this time. It almost feels that way, at least last time I got to see your flesh and form before you were carted away from us, got to hug you and feel how alive you were. Now I am cursing myself for not grabbing onto you more, as if somehow my grip could have brought down the whole drug cartel, as if my lowly hands could have kept you with us forever. I want to open my mouth to say something, but I am afraid if I do nothing but the animalistic pain inside me will come screeching out. So, inside I hang my head, try to steady my breathing, and remind myself to be more thoughtful in my wishes next time. On the outside, I am not quite the same, nor do I think I ever will be.

Elliot's POV

I should have known it was too good to be true. Like my girls coming to visit me on my birthday, once you lose some things, you can never fully have them back. I guess you are our loss Alex. We were blessed with a fleeting reminder of you, enough to reopen the wound on how much we miss you. I used to pick my scabs when I was a child. That's how I feel right now, like someone just tore open a massive scab and left me to bleed out on the floor. I don't even care if I get a tourniquet in time. My life will never be the same—my wife, my kids. Now you. And Olivia looks like an eagle that just had it's wings clipped—wounded and grounded. I guess we are all hurting. We had just finally finished exhaling our sighs of relief for your return when Hammond slammed us in the Adam's apple. We all just need to catch our breath again. That's what I'll keep telling myself.

Casey's POV

You were a ghost. Then you returned from the dead. Now you are a memory again. I can't imagine what it feels like on your side of this spectrum. I only know my side has been a gamut of emotions. I was so afraid you were going to waltz back in with your beauty and grace and reclaim your job. You even tried to a little bit, on the stand. I don't know which one of them gave you the file, but it was worse than a kick to the diaphragm. They didn't trust me to do _your_ job, so they helped you out. All this time I worked on trying to mean something to them, and you rise from the grave for two days and blaze it all to the ground. Now I know, for sure, I will always remain second to you. Not your ghost. They will all be silently praying for your return. The confounding part is, I can't blame them. From the inkling I saw you work, I know why they hold you in such high regards. I do too.

Alex's POV

I wanted to say goodbye again, but Hammond wouldn't let me this time. Honestly, I don't know if I really could have, without just dying inside. The looks on your two faces were bad enough the first time. I know it wasn't my fault, not really, but I felt like I had caused the totality of grief I saw there. I couldn't stand to watch insides crumbling again, not at my expense. I can barely deal with losing myself again, let alone its affects on others. I feel like the old question, 'Was I a man dreaming he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was a man?' Am I Alexandra Cabot, or is she just some dream I had and that is why I can never fully reclaim her. I feel like some sort of bewildered phoenix: number one, I don't really exist, but I think I do; number two, I keep dying and being reborn. I know all I can do is step out of those ashes again and rebuild. I just wish it wasn't so damn hard. I just want my old life back. There's nothing to do but let my tears start cleansing the ashes from my face.


End file.
